


Love On The Back Nine

by thewaywedo33



Category: Brittana - Fandom, Fleurmione - Fandom
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-03
Updated: 2014-05-03
Packaged: 2018-01-21 19:34:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 20,051
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1561598
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thewaywedo33/pseuds/thewaywedo33
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU Fleurmione set in the world of women's golf.  Fleur and Hermione are bitter rivals at the top of their game, but then an unexpected encounter begins to change things between them.  Note: Some Glee characters also make appearances as other players on the golf tour.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> AN: So I realize that golf may not be a whole lot of fanfiction readers cup of tea, but I promise, it's not actually really about the golf :) This story started writing itself in my head in the middle of the night, and it would not stop till I actually put my fingers to the keyboard, so here it is. I could wait and release it one chapter at a time, but eh, why bother when it's finished?
> 
> This is rated M for some mild language, and for the sexual content, which will show up after chapter 1. You've been warned, read at your own discretion.
> 
> Hope you enjoy, and as always, questions, comments, happy or scathing reviews are always welcome here or on my tumblr (feedback really is a wonderful thing). If you happen to enjoy the story feel free to go right ahead and share it with others.

Chapter 1

“Welcome to anyone just joining our broadcast of the final round of the Women's Kraft Nabisco Championship taking place on this beautiful April day here in sunny California. The first major tournament of the year in women's golf is always exciting, and this year is no exception. I'm Dean Thomas, and I'm joined here by Penelope Clearwater.”

“Hi Everyone.”

“And as always we have Minerva McGonagall, a three time major winner back in the early days of women's golf, out on the golf course following our final pairing. It should come as no surprise to regular women's golf viewers to hear that the two names at the top of the leader board are none other than Fleur Delacour of France and Hermione Granger of England, our world ranked number one and number two players respectively”.

“Yes Dean, recently it feels like one or the other of these young ladies is vying for the top spot during the final round of most tournaments, more often than not against each other”.

“Indeed Penelope. And what a treat it is for us as viewers. These two could not have more different styles of play if they purposely tried. In fact, pretty much everything about them seems to be opposite, even the way they dress. Let's go down to Minerva now, who is tailing this final pair of the day on the 18th hole. Minerva, do you have anything to add”?

“About the way they dress Dean? No.”

“Great! How about giving us an account of what the atmosphere is like down there between the two”?

“I think it's safe to say there is some tension going on. It's no secret these two are big rivals, and there probably isn't a lot of love lost between them.”

*****

Fleur Delacour is trying very hard not to roll her eyes, truly, but it's becoming difficult. She's waiting on the Granger girl to make her approach shot, and as usual she's being so absolutely methodical about it. She always considers every angle, every outcome, before finally making her oh so technically perfect swing. Everything about her stance, swing and follow through is just so damn text book that it drives Fleur mad. She prefers to play with more grace, adding more art to her swing and fun to her game in general. Fun is not a word she would associate with Hermione Granger's golf game. It's actually not a word she would associate with anything pertaining to the girl.

When Hermione finally steps up to her ball Fleur lets out a breath she didn't realize she was holding. There's the familiar 'woosh' of the club swinging through the air, the sound of the club head making contact with the ball, and Hermione's ball takes flight. 

“Be right, be right!” Hermione is calling after the ball, as if she can will it to land where she wants. The ball lands with a thud on the edge of the green but takes a large bounce in the wrong direction, coming to rest in the sand bunker just to the side of the green. Hermione mutters a curse word before turning to hand the 9 iron back to her caddie Ron. 

“It's all right 'Mione, stay calm, you can get up and down from a sand trap in your sleep.” Ron reassures her, using a towel to clean the face of the club before returning it to the bag. 

Hermione gives him a curt nod, turning to watch Fleur take her turn. She doesn't miss the small smirk Fleur was sporting as she turned away to consult with her caddie before making her shot. 

The truth is the french woman gets on her nerves. She's just so carefree about the game in a way that makes all of this seem like a random Sunday afternoon activity she just decided to try on, rather than the mental and physical grind that requires hours upon hours of practice it all really is. Then there's that damn powder blue skirt she wears every time she's in contention for the top spot. Sure, technically it's a sport skirt made specifically for golf, it just seems to be cut a little higher than Hermione would think someone performing athletics would want, and she's always pairing it with some cute little golf top and finishing off the whole look with a white visor, annoyingly perfect blonde ponytail flowing out the back. 

She herself had always preferred golf slacks (she'd do with long shorts in warmer temperatures) with a button up shirt or polo, always in sensible colors that wouldn't distract from the game, and she was forced to tame her hair into a braid which she wore a black baseball style hat over. The only touch of flair she was never without was the shiny 'H' belt buckle her father had given her when she'd turned 16 and first gone pro. 

Fleur finally decides on the club she wants and wastes no time initiating her swing. Hermione has to begrudgingly admire Fleur's finishing position. It's all perfect angles and curves, her flawless pale skin held in complete stillness for just a moment. Then Fleur is muttering at her ball in french and Hermione's attention is pulled to the object in flight. The ball lands 10 feet beyond the pin on a gentle slope and slowly trickles back down towards the hole, coming to a stop about a foot from the pin. The gallery explodes into applause in appreciation of the magnificent shot, and Fleur's smirk has returned as she stomps on the divot she made with her swing.

*****

“Wow, what a shot by Delacour. She's only one stroke behind, and with Granger's ball in the sand trap she has a good chance to birdie this hole and force a playoff. That seemed like a very uncharacteristic mistake by Hermione there Minerva, wouldn't you say?”

“She actually struck that ball perfectly Dean, and I think she was trying to use that little hill at the front of the green to dampen the ball's approach to the hole, she just got a really unlucky bounce considering how receptive the greens have been all weekend. I don't know if the ball hit a sprinkler head or what, but it just seems to be some really bad luck. We'll have to see how she responds to it.”

“Indeed. And it looks like Hermione has offered for Delacour to go ahead and take her putt before she plays from the sand, and Delacour has apparently accepted. I don’t know if I understand that decision by either of them Minerva.”

“I think they're both playing a little bit of mental chess here. Fleur figures if she makes this putt for birdie they'll be tied, which will put more pressure on Hermione and maybe cause a poor sand shot. Hermione is perhaps thinking if she goes first and hits a poor shot she takes all the pressure off Fleur. It might be a short putt for Delacour, but we've seen people miss shorter.”

“Excellent point as usual Minerva. Let's see what Fleur does here. Oh and she's dropped it right into the heart of the hole! There's that little bow and smirk the spectators love so much. The pressure is really on Granger now. She needs to knock this ball close and make her par putt in order to stay tied and force a playoff. Either way this tournament will eventually end with one of these ladies as the winner, taking the signature championship 'leap' into the pond off the 18th green”

*****

Hermione makes her way into the sand trap, pausing to take a calming breath. She knows what she needs to do. She needs to stay calm, be efficient and rely on her hours of practice.

“Soft swing, splash the sand. Soft swing, splash the sand. Soft swing, splash the sand.” She enunciates crisply, loud enough for only her own ears to hear. She digs her shoe spikes into the sand, taking her stance, and makes her swing, feeling the sand splash up away from her club just like she planned. The ball arcs into the air and onto the green, slowly rolling out towards the hole, dying out just on the edge of the cup before it drops in.

*****

“I don't believe it! Granger knocks it in from the bunker for a birdie and wins the tournament!”

*****

The spectators go wild and Hermione tosses her sand wedge in the air, bringing her hands on top of her head in disbelief. Ron is upon her in a second, picking her up to spin her around, laughing like a crazy person.

Fleur is standing just off the green, watching them celebrate while wearing the disinterested look her mother taught her at such a young age. She feels a gentle tug on her arm, and her caddie Harry is there offering a sympathetic look.

“No worries Fleur, you'll come out on top next time. You played a brilliant round today, don't beat yourself up.”

She gives him a small nod to let him know she heard him, the expression on her face never changing. It still doesn't change as she watches Hermione and her caddie take a running leap into the pond off the left side of the green, a tradition for the winner of the tournament. They emerge from the water soaking wet, laughing and giving each other a few half hearted splashes. Fleur's eyes involuntarily flick down Hermione's torso, taking in the way her wet clothes cling to her body, before turning her gaze towards Harry again.

“I'll be in the clubhouse getting ready to go.” 

And with that she strides off, not even offering a congratulatory hand shake to Hermione, although the other girl would never have expected one from her. They've been through this song and dance several times now, both of them taking turns at the top, and some things looked like they would never change, their general animosity towards each other being one them.

Two people who do not share any animosity are their caddies, Harry and Ron. While Fleur heads to the clubhouse Harry makes his way over to Ron, passing him a well worn $20 dollar bill.

“Looks like it's your turn to hang on to it mate.” 

Ron smiles, tucking the bill into a pouch on Hermione's golf bag. “Try not to cry over it too much, I'm sure I'll be giving it back to you soon enough.”

*****

“Well folks, that was quite a finish, but then, what else did we expect from these two competitors? We'll see in a couple weeks if we get another show down. They're both slated to play in the Classic in San Francisco. We can only hope to see some of these same fireworks. I'm Dean Thomas bidding you good evening on behalf of myself, Penelope and Minerva.”


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

The San Francisco weather is a bit chilly on the first morning of the tournament. Hermione opts to keep her fleece on to start the round, which is something she doesn't particularly enjoy having to do, as she's convinced the extra ounces change her swing just a bit. Of course she has spent hours practicing in all the clothes she wears during tournament play, but she still has her preferences.

As she makes her way to the first tee box to start the tournament she's greeted by the friendly face of Brittany Pierce, and Hermione is relieved to be paired with the happy and laid back girl for the first round. They both turned pro on tour the same year, and they've played enough rounds together at this point to learn they enjoy each other's company. Much unlike her interactions with a certain other blonde, Hermione thinks darkly. 

After their first drives of the day land safely in the fairway they begin the walk along the impeccably manicured grass. They both glance at the leader board just off the first tee to see how everyone with earlier tee times is fairing. Hermione doesn't miss the small smile that comes to Brittany's face when she sees that 'S. Lopez' is already three under on the day.

It is well known that Brittany Pierce and Santana Lopez are best friends and quite inseparable, often giving interviews together pre and post tournament. The golf world seems to find their friendship adorable and eats their antics up with a spoon. Hermione does as well, but she's been aware for quite awhile now that their so called 'friendship' is more than that. It has never been directly discussed, but while the rest of the tour seems oblivious, Hermione does not miss the looks they share or the brief touches. She's happy for them. There is so much pressure in the world of golf, and it must be nice to have someone to share it with, someone who understands every aspect of it. Although Hermione is quite certain she herself could never have such a relationship while in the prime of her career. That has never been a part of her very specific life plans until she's at least 30. 

“How is Crookshanks?” Brittany asks, pulling Hermione from her thoughts. Crookshanks being her rather large orange cat who is currently living with Hermione's parents back in England. She travels far too much for tournaments from spring through fall.

“He's really well, thank you. And Lord Tubbington?”

“He's great. Although he's been talking about taking a trip to England to meet Mr. Crookshanks, but I told him he had to wait. I think he's on a hunger strike because of it.”

Hermione laughs easily at Brittany's inane sense of humor. She's used to it by now, and she actually finds it rather refreshing. 

When Hermione reaches her ball she notices the group ahead waiting just off the green. “Great, we've got a back up all ready.” She mutters to herself. Brittany walks over from her own ball, a few yards ahead of Hermione's, and whispers “We've got Cohen-Chang ahead of us, it's going to be a long day.”

Hermione groans. Tina Cohen-Chang, while nice enough, is notorious for her slow pace of play. Hermione turns to see who's in the last pairing of the day, and sees none other than Fleur Delacour standing on the tee box. Hermione can sense her impatience from 265 yards away. 

She puffs her cheeks out for a moment and turns back to Brittany. “Great. We've got the slow poke in front of us and the ice princess of France behind us. Looks like we're going to have quite a day.”

Brittany just shrugs and smiles. “At least we're paired with each other and not one of them.”

“I like the way you think Brittany.”

*****

“Well Penelope, it's been a very interesting first three days of the tournament. If you're just joining us, it is 6:00pm California time, and the last pairing finished for the day a short while ago. The top spot currently belongs to Hannah Abbott at -7 under, with Brittany Pierce and Tina Cohen-Chang tied two shots back at -5 under. What's notable is the absence of both Fleur Delacour and Hermione Granger in the top 10. Normally at least one of them is hovering near the top spot going into the last day of a tournament, but they both seem to be struggling a bit this week. Delacour sits at -1 under while Granger is even for the tournament. It will be interesting to see if either of them can make up some ground in the final round tomorrow.”

*****

Hermione is exhausted by the time she enters the locker room located in the golf course clubhouse. She spent 2 hours at the range after her round today trying to work out her swing. The last three days have been a complete grind and she is utterly frustrated with the shape of her game right now. She wants to get back to the hotel as soon as possible for a shower and a good night's sleep before the final round tomorrow. 

She's happy to find the locker room deserted at this time because she honestly doesn't think she can do any sort of small talk with anyone right now. She pulls her bag out of her temporary locker for the weekend, pausing to take off her hat and run a brush through her sweaty and unruly locks. She's just finished throwing her hair up in a fresh pony tail when she hears the locker room door open. 

When Fleur Delacour rounds the corner her mood goes from bad to worse. Of course it would be her. It's obvious that Fleur expected the locker room to be empty by the surprised look on her face, but as soon as she realizes who the occupant is her eyes narrow.

“With how slow you've been playing I'm not surprised to see you just finished up your round.” Fleur directs towards her.

Hermione rolls her eyes. “Funny Fleur, really. You know I'm not the one holding up play.”

“Whatever.” Fleur huffs out, opening her locker with more force than necessary.

Hermione is sweaty, tired and sore, and she is not in the mood for any of Fleur's crap today. She tries to keep it in, she really does, at least that's what she tells herself before she feels her temper boil over. 

“What the hell is your problem?” she bites out, slamming her locker shut.

Fleur looks slightly taken aback for a moment, like she was not expecting Hermione to react, but then that maddeningly perfect composure slides back across her face before she takes a step forward. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me, I know you did.” Hermione takes a step towards Fleur, and her senses are invaded by the smell of vanilla and something else she can't quite put her finger on. It's a pleasing smell, which only serves to annoy Hermione more. “Look, I don't know what I did to annoy you so much, I really don't, but it's been obvious since the day we met that you don't care for me.”

Fleur remains expressionless, watching Hermione quietly. She's not entirely sure what has her so worked up, they've been exchanging this kind of banter for years, but if she's honest with herself she kind of enjoys seeing her like this. The thought of enjoying anything connected with Hermione Granger unsettles her for a moment, and she completely misses part of what the other girl says.

“...not like we're still teenagers here. I'm 21, you're 23...” 

Fleur really does not like the emphasis she places on her age, it makes her feel like a child being admonished for not living up to expectations, a feeling she knows all too well. 

“...been on tour together for almost 6 years! Can we just agree to be civil with each other?!”

Fleur wishes she could take the high road here, she really does, but something about this situation, about this girl, has pushed her beyond the brink of her normally impeccable composure. 

“You want to know what my problem is?” her voice comes out low, dangerous, and it cause Hermione to take a step back. Good. She takes another step forward before continuing, and now Hermione is backed up against her locker.

“From the first day you showed up on tour as a pro you've tried to suck the fun out of everything. Your interviews sound like a robot wrote your responses, your outfits look like a nun picked them out, and god forbid you take a shot on the golf course your not 100 percent statistically certain you'll make.” 

By the time Fleur finishes she's only a foot away, and she knows she should just turn and leave, that she has already been beyond cruel, unnecessarily so, but she can't stop herself from landing one more verbal jab. 

“To top it all off? You think wearing this damn thing,” Fleur roughly grabs the shiny H belt buckle low on Hermione hips “somehow makes you edgy, when really all it does is provide a distraction to...every...one...else.” Fleur jerks the belt with each of the last few words. Hermione swallows, and Fleur's eyes are drawn to her neck where she can see a pulse beating. It occurs to Fleur then that she might actually be a little turned on, and she should feel extremely alarmed by that, but then Hermione is reaching out and roughly grabbing the end of her skirt, giving it a small tug.

“Well I hate your infernal skirts. You do know we're playing a sport and not walking a fashion runway right?” Hermione speaks through gritted teeth. She's on the verge of shaking, Fleur's hand still grips her belt buckle, and crap, is she turned on? Their eyes are locked in an intense stare down, their breathing much heavier than is warranted given the situation. When Hermione unconsciously darts her tongue out to wet her lips Fleur's eyes drop down, pupils dilating. 

Neither of them could say who made the first move afterwards, probably both of them simultaneously, but in the next moment they're engaged in a heated kiss, all of their anger and frustration of the past few days coming out through rough lips and biting teeth. Hurried hands grab at clothing, pulling and rubbing at sensitive places. Hermione doesn't much care for being pinned against the locker and takes it upon herself to switch them around, slamming Fleur against the metal before nipping at her exposed collar bone. She almost lets out a moan when she feels Fleur tug at her earlobe with her her teeth, but she holds it back. She is not going to give Fleur Delacour the satisfaction. 

An audible gasp leaves both their mouths as they begin to rock back and forth into each other's thigh. Hermione wants more, needs more, and she's too far gone to stop and think about who she's sharing this moment with. She reaches up under Fleur's skirt, roughly pushing aside the fabric that is keeping her fingers from the wetness she wants to feel. She's surprised at just how wet Fleur is when she first slides her fingers down. She circles a finger around Fleur's clit and hears a hiss of breath, and the noise seems to shoot a sensation straight down to her own center, causing her to rock faster while applying more pressure on the bundle of nerves. 

They're panting now, mouths open against the other's neck, blindly rocking themselves to the edge at a frantic pace. Hermione gives one more hard circle with her fingers and Fleur is careening over the edge, the noise she emits from low in her throat causing Hermione to follow right after. 

It takes a minute for either of them to catch their breath, but once they do the reality of the situation comes crashing down. Hermione steps back with wide eyes, almost tripping in her haste to put some distance between them. Fleur for her part seems incapable of keeping her eyes focused on one spot for more than a second, her gaze bouncing around the room at a rapid pace. She finally balls her hands into fists, attempting to gain some control over her body, before walking towards the exit. Before disappearing around the corner she pauses, eyes picking a spot on the floor a foot from Hermione to focus on. 

“This never happened.” she whispers out fiercely.

“Never.” Hermione echoes back, but Fleur is already gone, leaving a very dumbfounded girl in her wake.

 

*****

“Well I have to say Minerva, both Delacour and Granger seem to have completely turned around their games today. They've been really sharp out there. Would you say an important part of being a champion is having the ability to forget your previous poor performances and step it up when the moment calls for it?”

“Yes I would Dean.”

“Wonderful. Even with their brilliant play today it looks like Brittany Pierce is going to take home the trophy, but you have to figure both women are happy with their performance in the final round.”

*****

 

Hermione is happy for Brittany, she really is, but she's feeling quite upset with herself. Sure, she played a great round today, but she could not stop her thoughts from wandering to the events of last night. She's still not entirely sure she didn't make the whole thing up in her head. But then why would she pick Fleur of all people to have an imaginary rendezvous with? Besides, her eyes had met Fleur's briefly a moment ago, and that one glance let her know it hadn't been a figment of her imagination at all. Fleur seemed even more guarded against her than usual, and the way her eyes cut away so quickly was telling.

They're both standing near the edge of the 18th green to congratulate Brittany on her win, and the way their crossed arms and closed off body language mirror each other would almost be comical if it wasn't so blatantly because of the other's presence.

Once Brittany finishes her post round interview Santana Lopez descends upon her with alarming speed, picking up the taller girl and spinning her around before pulling her into a tight hug. Hermione doesn't miss the brief and almost hidden kiss Santana drops onto her neck, and apparently neither does Fleur, because she's looking at them with a new found curiosity. It's not an unkind look though, and Hermione would know, she's had enough of them directed her way. 

“Hey ladies, you all could have gone home days ago, my girl Britt had this tournament locked up!” Santana yells out with a smile to all the other players gathered to offer their congratulations. Brittany is a well liked player on the tour, as much for her happy go lucky personality as for her ability to occasionally soften Santana's edges. 

“And you two,” Santana calls out, pointing to Fleur and then Hermione, “whatever good luck charm you discovered last night that allowed you to pull your heads out of your asses today and play some golf is something I'd look into keeping around. Not that you were ever going to beat Brittany today, but I kind of like watching the two of you battle it out. Part of me hopes someday there could be blood shed.” She shrugs as if this is a completely normal admission. 

Hermione swallows, trying really hard to keep her eyes from widening the way they want to. She tells herself no one could possibly know what happened between her and Fleur last night, but it doesn't stop her stomach from turning over. She cuts her gaze over to Fleur for just a moment and is startled when their eyes meet. They both look away as fast as possible, turning to walk in opposite directions, away from each other and away from everything that has transpired in the last 24 hours.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Madness. Complete and utter madness is what it is, and Hermione knows it. Which is exactly why she finds herself pacing back and forth in her hotel room muttering words to talk herself out of what she’s considering.

  
The third round of the tournament is over, and while her play hasn’t been terrible, she knows she could be better. Something just feels off about her game. And while she should be out on the driving range working things out she finds herself in her room contemplating something she can not believe. She blames Santana for it. That one little sentence, a throw away line really, yet it has her mulling over a repeat performance with Fleur. The very same Fleur Delacour who she really can not stand.

A knock on her door freezes her mid pace, and she runs a hand through her hair in frustration before she looks into the peephole to see who it is. Absolutely the last person she expects to see standing there is the very object of her insane thoughts.

She opens the door with her brows furrowed, meeting surprised blue eyes, as if Fleur didn’t expect Hermione to answer the door.

“Do you have the wrong room?” Hermione asks slowly, peeking her head out to look up and down the hallway, finding it deserted.

Fleur rolls her eyes before answering in a defensive tone “No, unfortunately. Can I…come in?” And she asks it like she’s really not all that sure she wants to come in, as if this is all some big chore she has to do.

Hermione scowls a bit, but she steps aside to let her pass. Fleur enters, looking around the room with a look of distrust, like there might be a reporter hiding under the bed or something. Or perhaps like she’s judging the accommodations and deeming them unworthy of her presence. Hermione thinks the second option is more likely. She crosses her arms over her chest affecting a defensive posture before asking “What do you want Fleur?”

Fleur scowls at that. “Look, I want to be here even less than you want me here-“

“Doubtful” Hermione interrupts. She can see Fleur’s jaw clench for a moment before she starts speaking again.

“Look, let’s just drop all pretenses here, ok? Neither one of us is playing that great right now, and last time that happened, we seemed to have, ah, inexplicably helped each other out with that little problem.”

Hermione can feel her eyebrows climbing into her hairline. While it’s true she was contemplating this very same thing when Fleur showed up, she was certainly not going to let her know that.

“Let me get this straight, you want me,” she points to herself and then slowly to Fleur, “and you, to have a repeat performance of what happened in the locker room?”

When Fleur gives a curt nod Hermione lets out a humorless laugh. “I thought you said that never happened?”

Fleur’s eyes narrow. “Do you want to do this or not? We can stand here all day having unpleasant conversation if you would prefer, but I personally have better things to do with my time. And while I find this entire situation insane, I'm willing to go with it considering how it turned out last time.”

Hermione takes a few moments to act like she’s contemplating the idea, which is a joke because she knows the decision was already made in her mind the moment Fleur showed up at her door, but she has appearances to keep up. Finally she lets out a sigh followed by a nod and a quiet “Ok.”

Hermione’s eyes widen comically when Fleur gives a short nod back and wastes no time stripping off her shirt and unbuckling her belt, pushing her jeans down and revealing lacy red underwear that match her bra. When she catches the expression on Hermione’s face she looks down at her own body, trying to find what could elicit such a reaction.

“What?” She asks, still looking at her torso. Finally she looks up again, a familiar smirk appearing on her lips. “Normally I don’t get any complaints when I strip.”

The comment breaks Hermione from her stare and she rolls her eyes for what feels like the tenth time already in this short encounter. “God Fleur, could you try being a little more vain?”

“Could you try being a little more undressed Hermione?” Fleur tosses back, clearly amused. “It would help with the whole process you know.” She adds the last part while removing her bra and then shimmying out of her underwear.

Hermione decides the distraction of undressing herself right now is probably a good idea, and if Fleur is going to be so impersonal about the whole thing then she can be too. Once she finishes removing all her clothes she finally looks back at Fleur only to find blue eyes unabashedly looking over her naked body for the first time. It causes Hermione to involuntarily swallow.

“Right then,” she says, feeling rather lame, but then she decides to just go for it. This is Fleur, not some person she has romantic feelings for. No need for any preamble to the sex.

They meet in a searing kiss, all teeth and nips at each other's lips, and when their naked bodies come into contact for the first time neither of them can hold back the moan they release. Fleur buries a hand in Hermione's hair, drawing her deeper into the kiss, while her other hand makes a lazy path down, stopping at the dip of her lower back and pressing their bodies closer. Hermione runs a hand up Fleur's abdomen, running her hand over a breast before pinching a nipple and rolling it between her fingers roughly, causing Fleur to bite down on her lower lip in reaction.

“Bed, now,” Fleur mumbles against Hermione's lips before she turns them around and pushes Hermione back onto the mattress. Hermione scoots herself back fully onto the bed, her chest heaving, and Fleur can not look away from her pert nipples. She crawls onto the bed, legs on either side of Hermione's, and brings her lips to one of the hard nubs, sucking it into her mouth before scraping it with her teeth. Hermione grunts and her hips buck up, allowing Fleur to feel her wetness against her stomach. “So wet already,” Fleur smirks out while switching her focus to the other nipple and lavishing it with her tongue. Hermione bends her knee and presses a thigh into Fleur's center before responding. “You're one to talk,” she breathes out, before adding “I'd wager you're even more wet than I...”, Fleur cuts her off with a deep kiss, pushing forward with her tongue and starting a duel for dominance in Hermione's mouth.

Hermione should be embarrassed to admit how far along she already is, but she can't find it in her to care much when Fleur's tongue is in her mouth and she can feel a wet core grinding down into her thigh. In fact, Hermione feels quite emboldened by the situation and decides to take control in order to get what she needs. This is an arrangement specifically for the sake of getting off after all, and not some slow romantic weekend tryst.

When Hermione suddenly rolls them on the bed Fleur lets out a squeak of surprise and finds herself pinned to the mattress. Her blue eyes widen as Hermione sits up and grabs ahold of the head board with one hand while looking down at her with eyes that have gone so very dark. “I need you inside,” she manages to say with a level voice, even though her heart feels like it wants to beat right out of her chest. Fleur swallows, immediately running a hand up a smooth thigh and immersing her fingers into wet heat. Hermione squeezes her eyes shut, her brow furrowing, as Fleur pushes inside of her with two fingers. She hesitates for just a moment to let them both adjust, but then Hermione starts to move herself up and down, and christ, Fleur doesn't think she's ever witnessed something this hot. She's proven wrong a minute later when Hermione runs the hand not clutching onto the headboard down and starts rubbing her own clit. Fleur can only watch with heavy breaths leaving her lips, meeting each movement of Hermione's hips with a thrust of her fingers. She's dangerously close to coming just from watching this whole thing.

Hermione works herself higher and higher on Fleur's fingers, her own fingers circling her clit repeatedly. Finally her hips fall out of rhythm before she lets out a deep moan and she clenches around Fleur's fingers in the deepest and most drawn out climax she can ever remember. She stays still for a moment, catching her breath, and Fleur is acutely aware of just how close she is to climax herself, and how much she desperately needs the release.

A minute later Hermione moves to lie down next to Fleur, and she wastes no time running her fingers down into Fleur's wetness. It takes a ridiculously short amount of time before Fleur is careening over the edge, grabbing a pillow to bite down on in order to muffle her moan.

They both just lie there for a couple minutes letting their breaths and heartbeats recover, and it takes Hermione a bit to remember herself and who she's lying in bed with. She rises from the bed tossing “I'm going to take a shower,” over her shoulder, and she hears Fleur respond “I'll let myself out,” before she turns on the water.

Hermione stays in the shower for awhile, letting the hot water wash over her while she rests her forehead against the tiled wall. She wonders if she should be feeling guilty at all, or embarrassed about her behavior. She's a little surprised that she doesn't feel either of those things. It seems that while her mind doesn't much care for Fleur Delacour, her body is in complete disagreement. Given what they'd just done together it would seem a shame to not take advantage of the situation. Especially if it helps both of them blow off some stress and feel good while doing it. They'll just need to keep the actual conversation about, well anything really, to a minimum in order to avoid their mutual disdain from ruining whatever physical thing they have going on.

When Hermione emerges form the bathroom in a bathrobe, her hair pulled up in an extremely messy wet ponytail, she's shocked to find Fleur not only still present but lounging on the bed with her back against the headboard and her legs stretched out, legs crossed at the ankle. She's dressed, so Hermione is confused as to why she hasn't left yet and is instead flipping through the channels on the television with a bored look on her face.

“I tried to leave but Tina Cohen-Chang is in the hallway talking on her cell phone. I didn't want anyone to see me leaving your hotel room,” Fleur's tone manages to sound as bored as her face looks.  
Hermione rolls her eyes. “Bloody hell, this could be awhile. She seems to think we all want to hear the details of her long distance relationship with her boyfriend. Or maybe she just wants to make sure we all know she has a boyfriend, I'm not really sure,” she finishes with a frown.

Fleur looks at her out of the corner of her eye before letting out a little laugh. “I'm pretty sure that's the first uncharitable thing I've ever heard you say about someone on tour. Besides me of course.”

Hermione arches an eyebrow before responding “That's because you and I don't exactly engage in a whole lot of conversation.”

The response must satisfy Fleur because she has no comeback. Hermione can hear Tina talking in the hall and decides if they're going to be stuck together for awhile in her hotel room she might as well be comfortable. She crosses the room to grab a bag of candy before situating herself on the bed next to Fleur, leaving a good amount of space between the two of them.

Fleur looks down at the bag in her hands quizzically. “Twizzlers?”

Hermione shrugs. “When in America, you know?”

Fleur returns her gaze to the television. “I guess so.”

They fall into silence for awhile, and it occurs to Hermione that while a little strained, it's not all that uncomfortable. They're watching some movie involving fast cars and beautiful people, and Hermione is a little surprised by the choice, but she supposes it's perfectly suitable for waiting out Tina's sometimes verbose nature. She's pulled from her thoughts when Fleur speaks again.

“Why do you choose to stay in hotels anyway? I would think with the tournaments you've won and your sponsorships you could afford to rent a house like a lot of the top girls do.”

Hermione takes a moment to mull over the question, deciding it doesn't hurt to answer honestly, that it's not information Fleur could use against her in the future.

“I like having people around. I think I would feel too alone in a house all by myself.”

Fleur is silent for a moment, finally responding with a quiet “That's exactly why I like it.”

Hermione blinks, slightly taken aback because she's pretty sure Fleur Delacour just revealed a personal detail about herself. The moment passes when Fleur reaches out and grabs a hold of a couple of the rubbery red cords in the bag she's holding. Hermione watches her take a bite out of one, waiting while Fleur seems to contemplate how she feels about the experience. She finally gives a shrug with a nonchalant “Not bad.”

“They'll grow on you,” Hermione responds a few moments later, almost as an after thought, and Fleur hums out a noise that could either be an agreement or a 'we'll see'.

It's almost an hour later when Fleur checks the hallway again and finally finds it empty. Hermione fell asleep about 30 minutes ago, curled up on her side with a few stray hairs from her messy ponytail laying across her cheek. For a moment Fleur had almost brushed them back behind her ear, but she resisted the impulse and slipped out of the room without another glance back.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Hermione is distracted as she makes her way to the first tee box. It's a sunny Thursday morning in Virginia and she really should be thinking about how she wants to play the first round of this tournament, but instead her thoughts keep straying to the previous night.

Somehow, and Hermione is really hard pressed to remember exactly how it came about, Fleur ended up in her hotel room again. Only the tournament hadn't even started, there was no bad day of play to explain away the sweaty tangle of limbs and long deep kisses, yet there they were, hands and lips everywhere, coaxing out the animalistic side in each other. It hadn't been as rough or angry as the first couple times, taking on a slightly more playful edge one might find with two people engaging in great sex with no feelings or expectations attached.

Hermione finds herself going back to one moment again and again in her mind, no matter how many times she tells herself to stop. It was completely unexpected, and maybe that was why Hermione found herself so affected by it. She'd been thrusting knuckle deep into Fleur with two fingers, kissing up and down soft pale thighs. When she sensed Fleur getting close she ran her tongue, then teeth, along her clit before sucking the bundle of nerves into her mouth. One of Fleur's hands had tangled into her curls, and then it happened. Words, in French, came spilling out of Fleur's mouth in a breathless tone. She was babbling in French, and Hermione can distinctly remember the feeling of something turning over in her chest. She'd faltered for just a moment before the hand in her hair urged her on, bringing Fleur to climax. Hermione thinks Fleur may have recovered from her orgasm faster than she herself had recovered from hearing the breathless jumble of french words. 

Fleur had left pretty quickly after they finished, they both needed a good night sleep before the tournament started. It had taken Hermione longer than she would have liked to drift off, and when she finally did she could still hear the murmur of french spoken in the throes of passion.

And now the speaker of those words is twenty yards ahead of her also heading to the first tee box, and Hermione is really questioning why the tour loves pairing them up for rounds so much. She rolls her eyes at herself, because she knows their rivalry is a huge draw, people love watching them battle it out, but for the first time Hermione finds herself wondering why it has to be such a big deal. 

When they reach the tee they have to wait to get announced to the crowd. “You all right there 'Mione? You seem a little distracted.” Ron asks, pulling her driver from the bag and handing it to her.

Hermione sneaks a look at Fleur, who is currently engaged in conversation with her own caddie. Their eyes meet for a moment and Fleur gives a little nod. It causes some sort of switch to flip in Hermione, and she finds herself ready and determined to put together a good round today. 

“I'm great, no distractions here,” and she gives a convincing smile to Ron, who smiles back, offering his fist for their customary pre-round fist bump.

“Well all right then, let's do this.”

 

*****

“Well folks it has been quite a day so far here in Williamsburg, Virginia. We've got names like Angelina Johnson and Santana Lopez near the top of the leader board, both really fun payers to watch, wouldn't you agree Penelope?”

“I would Dean. I love how fiery both women get, they have real spirit, especially Lopez, who some of the other players on tour refer to affectionately as 'Diabla'.”

“Well Penelope, I don't know if that's always meant as a compliment, but it doesn't seem to phase Santana in the least. And I simply can not overlook the incredible round Fleur Delacour and Hermione Granger are putting together right now. No surprise to see it, but they almost seem to be spurring each other on even more than they normally do when playing together. It seems like every time Fleur bombs a drive down the fairway Hermione follows with a bomb of her own. If Fleur hits a brilliant pitch shot Hermione follows with an unbelievably clutch putt. We've got Minerva down on the course following the pair. Minerva, would you say the air between the two seems slightly different today?”

“I would actually have to agree with your analysis today Dean. Their body language towards each other seems to be a bit less frigid, which isn't saying a whole lot, but with these two it's noticeable.”

“Definitely noticeable Minerva, even on the tv monitors. And now we have Granger getting ready for her tee shot on the 15th. She has such perfect text book balance in her swing. It's not as fun to watch as Fleur's swing, but you have to really appreciate her precision. Oh no! It looks like she's hit a wildly errant tee shot here, it's gone way left, into the trees. That is just a terrible place to be in for her second shot. This hole is set up as a dog leg left, and with the type of game she plays she really has no shot at the green here. I'm thinking she'll have to hit a short little shot sideways out of the woods back onto the fairway here, essentially wasting a shot. What do you think Penelope?”

“I agree Dean. The strength of her game is not making mistakes like this in the first place, because when she gets into these situations she doesn't have the type of shots in her repertoire to get out of it without losing strokes.”

“Right you are. Minerva, do you have any kind of explanation for what happened down there?”

“Indeed I do Dean. A spectator behind the tee took a picture just as she started her down swing and I think the click of the camera threw her concentration. In fact her caddie Ronald Weasley is confronting the spectator right now demanding his camera and asking security to escort him out. It's against the rules to take pictures while a playing is actively swinging, so I don't blame him for being irate on behalf of his golfer. I think what matters now is if she's able to recover from this without dropping a shot or multiple shots on this hole. She currently sits in third place for the day, and I'm sure she'd love to stay there.”

*****

Hermione feels annoyed all over again when she locates her ball in the woods and sees what a terrible position she's in. There are trees in front of her blocking any kind of straight shot. Her best bet is to hit a sideways shot back out onto the fairway, but with the way the fairway curves to the left before the green it is not a given she can get through this hole without making a mess of it. 

She walks back out of the woods to talk it over with Ron. 

“Ugly spot to be in 'Mione. I'd say just get yourself back on the fairway and we can go from there, ok?” he says in a reassuring tone.

“You could hit a severe duck hook, actually progress the ball up the fairway and hopefully still make par.” a voice says quietly

Three heads turn to look at Fleur in surprise when she finishes speaking. Ron actually has his mouth hanging open. Harry for his part manages to look slightly less dumbfounded, but he's looking back and forth between the two women unsure what might come next.

Hermione mulls the suggestion over for a moment. “You know playing like that isn't my strong suit Fleur.” 

Fleur shrugs. “Maybe not, but you're certainly capable of it.” 

The unspoken words hang in the air between them. Hermione realizes Fleur just told her she considers her talented enough to hit a shot most people wouldn't attempt. And while it makes her feel more pleased than she cares to admit, she doesn't think it's necessarily a good idea to go changing up her style of play in the middle of a round. But then she looks over at Ron and he has a grin on his face and a mischievous sparkle in his eye. 

He speaks quietly so only she can hear. “You know what 'Mione? It's the first day of the tournament, you're in a pretty good position, and I have to agree with Fleur, which is a sentence I never thought I'd be saying to you, but you are talented enough to pull off this shot. Besides, I think Fleur doesn't actually believe you'll attempt it. Wouldn't you just love to stick it to her?” 

It's a little childish, but Hermione can not stop the grin that spreads across her face. “Hand me my 7 iron, I'll need to keep the shot low to avoid any branches.” 

Ron hands her the club, giving her a fist bump for luck.

When Hermione gets back to her ball she takes a moment to calm herself by taking a deep breath. “Ok, you are not going to blow this. You are absolutely competent and talented enough to pull this off. If you can make that woman over there lose her mind so much she starts speaking in another language then you are more than capable of making this ball do what you want.”

With her self pep talk over she takes her stance and gets ready to swing.

*****

“I absolutely do not believe it! Hermione Granger, the most straight laced player on tour in regards to the shots she takes, has just hit a low duck hook out of the woods that curved at least 20 yards to the left and has run up all the way onto the front of the green. Minerva, did you catch any of her exchange with her caddie? Was there something you saw that would explain why she chose to hit a shot that is so uncharacteristic of her game?”

“Well Dean I was not close enough to hear anything being said, but I can tell you that at one point both Ms. Granger and her caddie were talking to Ms Delacour and her caddie, which quite frankly is something I've never seen with this group. And I can also tell you that right now Ms. Delacour is wearing a giant grin, though she's trying to hide it under the bill of her visor.”

*****

Hermione finishes the day still in third place, thanks to the unbelievable shot she pulled off on the 15th hole. She's still a bit in shock Fleur had even gotten involved at all by making a suggestion. They've been paired together so many times over the past six years Hermione can't even count, and never once has Fleur done more than watch her with that impassive face of hers, unless she was scowling. She occasionally deemed to give her polite yet bored applause along with the spectators when she made a particularly difficult putt. This was something completely unprecedented. And Hermione could swear as she was emerging from the woods she'd caught the tail end of a very large smile on Fleur's face.

When they finished the round there was the usual nod from afar for propriety's sake before they had both gone their separate ways, but something just felt a bit...different. 

*****

The third night of the tournament finds Fleur in Hermione's bed again. This is the first time they've hooked up twice during the course of the same tournament, and Hermione suspects it has something to do with the two of them not playing in another tournament together for the next few weeks, though neither of them would ever acknowledge such a thing out loud. 

Their pace is frantic, desperate almost, and they are both wrestling for dominance when they manage to roll completely off the bed. Hermione lands on top of Fleur and she quickly sits up, looking down with wide eyes. “I'm so sorry, are you all right?”

Fleur grunts, putting a hand on the back of Hermione's head and pulling her back down only to stop with their lips an inch apart. “I will be if we get back to what we were doing.” She gives a wicked grin before crashing their lips back together.

It takes another half hour before they are both sated. Fleur takes her time getting dressed while Hermione turns on the television, waiting for her heartbeat to calm down. She's fully expecting Fleur to take her leave without much conversation as is the typical routine, but after poking her head out the door to check the hallway she pulls herself back, turning her blue eyes to Hermione. 

“Listen, I was thinking, and maybe the next time we decide to do this you should just, I don't know, come to whatever house I'm renting. That way we don't have to worry about anybody seeing us or Tina Cohen-Chang talking in the hall for hours on end trapping us in here.” Fleur speaks the whole thing rather quickly, ending it all with what she hopes is a casual shrug.

Hermione stares at her for a moment, because she was not expecting that at all, and sure, it makes a lot of sense, but all she can think about at the moment is how Fleur actually looks kind of nervous. Nervous is something Hermione has never seen on Fleur, and somehow it makes her look kind of cute. Hermione actually scowls at herself for the thought, because she really can not believe she just associated the word 'cute' with Fleur Delacour. These rolls in the sack really must be affecting her brain cells. 

Fleur must think the scowl is for her suggestion because she quickly adds “It was just a suggestion.”

Hermione relaxes her face before responding. “No, no, it's a good suggestion. I'm fine with that if you are. Um, I guess we should exchange cell phone numbers so you can text me the address?”

“Well I could always have Harry let Ron know the address, and he can pass it along to you.”

Hermione can feel her eyebrows shoot directly into her hairline and her mouth drops open.

“It's a joke Hermione. I wonder if they think we don't know they make bets on us every tournament?” Fleur laughs before adding “It used to annoy me, but then I figured it was nice if at least they didn't hate each other.”

Hermione is still a bit in shock at the turn this conversation has taken and finds herself unable to censor her words. “I don't hate you Fleur. I just tend to find you arrogant, vain and a bit rude.”

“Well I can live with that Hermione, because I find you stuffy and a bit of a know it all.” Fleur is actually still smiling, and unless Hermione is mistaken, there's a bit of a twinkle in her eye. “I'll see you in a few weeks,” she adds before slipping out the door, leaving a somewhat flummoxed Hermione in her wake.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

Almost a month goes by before Fleur and Hermione see each other again in person. They're both in North Carolina for the U.S. Women's Open, the second major championship of the year. Both women have won this particular tournament once before in their careers, but it's the type of accomplishment they would like to repeat. 

It's Tuesday morning, and most of the players have already arrived to do interviews and practice rounds before the official start of the tournament on Thursday. Hermione finally spots Fleur just before the other girl ducks into the interview tent for her round of questioning by the press. When their eyes meet Hermione is surprised by the small electric current that seems to pass between them. She wasn't quite sure what to expect after their time apart, but it seems whatever physical thing they have going on hasn't faded. 

Fleur enters the interview tent with the resolve to get this over with as quickly as possible. Outwardly she's always charming, smiling at all the right places and making jokes when called for, but on the inside she's never cared for this aspect of professional golf. Despite what some people believe, she's never been out for fame.

Once seated at the table with a microphone in front of her she nods at the interview moderator to go ahead and take the first question. She makes sure to give a charming smile for the sea of reporters. There are more than usual with this being one of only five major championships for the year. 

The first question comes from a tall balding man she recognizes from previous interview sessions. “Fleur, expectations are high for both you and Hermione Granger at this tournament with you being ranked number one and her ranked number two in the world. Do you feel like all that pressure adds to your rivalry?”

Fleur has been asked variations of this question for years now, and it's never really bothered her, but for some reason today she feels a hint of annoyance at this man for asking a question involving the two of them. It's something she vows to think more on later, for now choosing to play the part she knows is expected of her. 

“Ken is it?” The man gives a pleased nod at being recognized. “Well, Ken, I think everyone here this week is trying to win, and that creates a little bit of a rivalry between all of us, but we all respect each other.”

Ken is apparently not appeased by her answer because he immediately starts with a follow up question. “If you had to predict who will finish better this weekend, you or Ms. Granger, who do you see coming out on top.”

Fleur has to push away the image that comes to mind from his choice of phrase before answering. “I can't say for sure, but I do know this course is set up in a way that suites a particular style of play. Whoever plays more of that style will probably fair better.”

“I'm assuming you feel you have the style of play more suited for this course?” he asks as his final question before sitting down.

Fleur just gives him a wink and a cheeky “I guess we'll see,” and the room is eating it all up as usual. Fleur really does not care for these things.

*****

Hermione finds herself on the driving range along with several other players, including Fleur, an hour after interviews are over. Santana Lopez seems more interested in making random conversation up and down the line of players than getting in much practice, and Hermione is wary when she makes her way over to her end. 

“So tell me Queen of England,” Hermione looks around to be sure Santana is in fact addressing her, rolling her eyes when she realizes she is, “what's the deal with you and relationships?”

Hermione arches an eyebrow. “Excuse me? I really don't think that is any of your business.” Her eyes involuntarily flick over to where Fleur is, two spots down from herself, hitting balls as if she is unaware of the conversation.

Santana cocks a hip, arms crossing over her chest. “Oh come on, don't tell me you have a problem sharing the private details of your life with me? Auntie 'Tana finds out all about everyone's love life. It's just a thing I do. Johnson down there is dating her caddie, Hannah Abbot has a guy in California she hooks up with every time there's a tournament in the state, and we all know Cohen-Chang has herself a man, who happens to have the same last name as her, so I'm not sure if I should be concerned or not.” She shrugs as if this is the most normal conversation in the world.

Hermione turns back to the ball she has in front of her, squaring her club face to it in preparation of her swing. “Not that I need to tell you a thing, but I have no intention of having any kind of serious relationship until I'm in the later years of my career,” She lets loose a hard swing sending her ball into flight, as if it will highlight her distaste for the whole conversation.

“Well please at least tell me that whole uptight british thing is just an act and you are at least getting some casual tail?”

There's a loud thump from a club being buried in the ground on a down swing, and Hermione looks over to see a giant chunk of earth flying from where Fleur is hitting balls. 

“You all right over there Delacour? Got the shanks?” Santana laughs, flicking her eyes over in curiosity.

“I'm just fine Santana,” Fleur sighs out without turning around. 

Santana nods, apparently appeased by the answer. “See Granger what you need to do is take a page out of Fleur's book here.” 

This time it's Hermione who hits the errant shot. She turns around with an incredulous look on her face. “I'm sorry?”

Santana smirks at her. “See 'ole Fleur here is well known for her, how should I put it, wham, bam, thank you ma'am type attitude she has towards relations. You should try adopting it, maybe you'd have a little more fun on tour.”

For the sake of ending this infernal conversation Hermione grits her teeth and forces a smile. “Thank you Santana, I will keep your expert advice in mind.”

“Of course you will,” Santana smiles. She turns her attention to everyone else on the range before calling out “Ladies! I better see all of you at my rental house tonight. Food, drinks, real conversation that's not with fat balding men who want to talk about our putting strokes. We still have another day before the tournament starts, so I don't want to hear any excuses.” She turns her attention to Hermione. “You coming?”

Considering the conversation that just took place Hermione would really prefer not to go, but she really wants to see Brittany, so she supposes she can at least put in an appearance. “Yeah, all right.”

“Excellent. Delacour! You coming? And don't tell me you have something better to do, like removing the stick you have up your ass, because I won't believe you.”

Hermione can see Fleur's shoulders tense for a moment before she turns around, fixing Santana with an icy glare. “For Brittany's sake, yes I am coming.”

That seems to satisfy Santana and she finally heads back to the other end of the range, leaving Hermione in peace. She lets out a sigh, wishing she had different plans tonight. Plans that involved a lack of clothes and a particular blonde standing not all that far away. 

*****

 

The gathering at Santana's rental house goes far better than Hermione expected. Brittany does a good job of reigning Santana in before she can go off on some of her usual tirades, and Hermione gets the chance to chat with some of the girls she hasn't really seen in awhile. Of course she spends a good amount of time being distracted by Fleur, or rather, pretending she isn't distracted by her. 

As the night is finally winding down Hermione is surprised when Brittany asks her to stay behind for a few minutes after everyone else leaves. That surprise doubles when she realizes Fleur was also asked to stay. 

They're both sitting on a couch in the living room, a respectable distance apart form each other of course, when Brittany comes bouncing into the room, Santana in tow.

Hermione speaks first. “Brittany, might I ask why you asked us to stay?”

Brittany gives her most innocent smile. “I have no idea, Santana asked me if I would make sure both of you stayed after everyone left, so I did.” She states as if that's a perfectly reasonable explanation.

Santana is looking back and forth between the two of them, and Hermione starts to feel extremely uncomfortable under her scrutiny. When she finally speaks the room only gets more uncomfortable.

“You two,” she swings a finger back and forth between the two of them, “have something going.” Hermione swallows down the nervous feeling building in her stomach as Santana continues. “At first I thought maybe I was seeing things, but I most definitely am not. You,” she points directly at Fleur “checked out Hermione's tits earlier tonight. And you,” she turns the accusatory finger on Hermione “checked out Fleur's ass when she was walking down the hall to the bathroom.”

Fleur, who looks completely calm and collected, very much unlike how Hermione feels, rolls her eyes in an exaggerated manner. “Seriously Santana, you kept us behind to accuse us of doing things you made up in your own mind?”

“Oh no Fleur, you are not mean mugging your way out of this one. If it was only those blatantly obvious looks I wouldn't have said anything, but then it occurred to me that the air has been just a bit different between the two of you recently. I don't think anyone else has noticed, but other people's business is kind of a specialty of mind, so...” she shrugs as if that would explain anything. “What I think is that the two of you have become each other's pressure releases.” Santana has such a smug smile on her face, as if she's put together a particularly difficult puzzle.

Fleur sighs, pinching the bridge of her nose. “What exactly does that mean Santana?”

“It means you both help each other release,” she punches her fists together a couple times, “pressure.”

Brittany gives a brilliant smile at that. “Santana is the best at relieving pressure. She does this thing with-”

“Hey Britt Britt?” Santana interjects with urgency, causing a sheepish look to cross Brittany's face.

“Too much sharing?”

“Yeah, just a bit.” Santana says, but it's soft, just like the face she's giving Brittany. Her features harden a bit when she turns back to Fleur and Hermione, but she seems less severe than she did moments ago. “Look, I don't know what's going on between the two of you, and I don't particularly like either one of you all that much, but I do know that recently both of you have been marginally more tolerable. So whatever this is? Don't make a mess of it.”

Hermione and Fleur look at each other warily, communicating with their eyes that they should just go with the moment and get out of there as quickly as possible.

“We hear you loud and clear Santana.” Hermione answers, her eyes still on Fleur's.

“Good. And don't worry, I get a ridiculous amount of satisfaction out of knowing other people's deep, dark secrets, so I won't tell.”

Neither Fleur nor Hermione can get out of there fast enough.

 

*****

 

Hermione is actually a bit surprised when she gets a text from Fleur shortly after she arrives back at her hotel room. She's half expecting Fleur to decide it would be best for the two of them to not hook up for awhile after the confrontation with Santana. Instead she gets a text of an address and the simple message 'I'll be waiting.' Hermione swallows in anticipation when she reads the message, heading back out into the night. 

It's a gorgeous house Fleur is staying in, but Hermione doesn't notice much more about it when she's pulled inside by her collar and pushed up against the closed front door, Fleur's lips melding to her own in a deep, drawn out kiss. When Fleur pulls away her eyes are dark. 

She wastes no time leading Hermione down the hall to the bedroom, stopping when they reach the bed to remove Hermione's jacket before pushing her back onto the mattress. She crawls onto the bed slowly after her, and Hermione is transfixed by the hungry and desperate look in her eyes. 

“Tell me,” Fleur husks out before running her tongue up the side of Hermione's neck, pausing with her lips next to her ear, “did you think about me at all these past few weeks?” 

“N-no,” Hermione stutters out as Fleur rakes her teeth along her earlobe. It's a lie, a complete and utter lie, but Hermione is not about to give Fleur the satisfaction.

“Not at all?” Fleur asks, running her hands up underneath Hermione's shirt.

Hermione can only shake her head no when Fleur nips at the pulse point on her neck.

“Well I thought about you...” She kisses her way along a jaw line, “at night, when I was by myself.” She bites down gently on Hermione's lower lip and tugs for a moment. “I pictured it was your fingers inside of me instead of my own.”

Hermione can not hold back the noise she makes at Fleur's admission. She pulls back momentarily to pull her shirt overhead. “Fleur? Less talking, more touching.” 

Fleur smirks down at her before removing her own shirt. “Yes ma'am.”

*****

 

Hermione feels a little bit strange afterwards, lying in Fleur's bed with no plan for a quick exit. She knows they both have every intention of engaging in round two, which requires some recovery time, but they've never lied around naked in bed together for a prolonged period of time. Hermione thinks she might like it, but decides that's really neither here nor there. She's startled from her thoughts when Fleur speaks.

“Listen, about what Santana said at the driving range this morning. About me being a 'wham, bam thank you ma'am' type person...” she looks unsure of herself for a moment, which is rare, “it's true. I've never been a relationship person, and I don't see that ever changing. And I just need to be sure you understand that, and that you're ok with things staying just how they are.” 

Hermione is stunned for a moment. Are they actually going to have a discussion about 'them', as if there's any kind of them to actually talk about? She's still wrapping her mind around the fact that her body craves Fleur despite her mind never having cared for her. Ok, so maybe at this point it's become obvious their mutual disdain was perhaps unfounded, but they're far from being friends, or anything more for that matter. She realizes Fleur is watching her closely, waiting for some kind of reaction.

“Fleur, I meant what I said about having no interest in actual relationships until later in my career. I'm far too focused on golf right now to look for anything other than what we've been doing. And let's be honest, we don't even like each other all that much.” She stays quiet for a moment to let that sink in. It's the truth, and she tells herself she absolutely does not feel a pang of regret. “Now get over here so we can get back to what we do well.” 

Fleur complies with the demand immediately, feeling relieved that they're both on the same page, pushing aside the flash of what feels suspiciously like disappointment. No, what they have is all she's ever needed, and she's not looking for more. She wouldn't even know how to do 'more' anyway. Then Hermione's fingers are distracting her, and her thoughts float away easily.

An hour later it's Hermione's turn to slip away, heading out into the night. They both spend the night in their own beds convincing themselves nothing is changing between them at all.

*****

Fleur finds herself in first place by three strokes on the final day. Standing at her ball in the middle of the 17th fairway she tries to decide what her next shot should be. There's a creek that runs in front of the green, and the distance to carry it is at the far end of Fleur's range. If she hits the ball perfectly she would be ok, but if she doesn't, well it could seriously jeopardize her chances at winning. The problem is, she'd normally go for it more often than not, but then she could swear it was Hermione's voice she heard in her head telling her to play the shot she can make for sure. 

Fleur scowls to herself. She'd already caught herself checking the leader board a few times today to see how a particular player was fairing. Hermione is four shots back in third place with three holes to go, and Fleur is annoyed with herself for even knowing that. Normally she shuts everything out and just plays the game. 

Harry gently touches her arm, pulling her from her confusing thoughts. “Fleur? I know you like to play aggressive, but I really think the way to go here is to lay up. Let's make sure you make par and keep your lead, alright?” He speaks calmly, and it helps Fleur accept his words.

“I believe you are right Harry.” And with that Fleur Delacour takes the safe shot.

*****

Fleur receives congratulations and hugs when she officially wins. It's a whirlwind of interviews and well wishers that should keep her beyond distracted, but in the back of her mind she's aware of how her eyes do regular sweeps of the area, looking for a particular person. That's how she noticed Ron slipping Harry back the $20 he'd no doubt received last time Hermione won. She actually smiles at the audacity of it all. Then her eyes finally fall upon the girl she was looking for and the smile fades into a smirk. Hermione answers with a smirk of her own, giving a slight head nod in lieu of congratulations. 

When Fleur slightly tilts her head to the side and flicks her eyes in the direction of the parking lot the meaning isn't lost on Hermione, and they wind up spending the next several hours celebrating Fleur's victory in their own way. Neither bother to mention the declined offers of drinks and parties in order to meet up with each other. They both figure some things are better left unsaid.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

“Folks thank you for joining us for our pre-tournament coverage of the British Open. We're coming to you live from Lancashire, in the northwest part of England, where it's 2:00pm on an overcast Tuesday. I'm Dean Thomas, and I'm joined by Minerva McGonagall for some tournament analysis before things get kicked off on Thursday morning. Minerva, we can't possibly talk about this tournament without discussing whether or not this will be Hermione Granger's year to win it. This is the only major tournament win that continues to elude her.”

“Right you are Dean. She's been dreaming of winning this particular tournament since she was a little girl growing up several hours south of here. It makes you wonder if she presses too hard and that is the reason she's never been able to put it all together here.”

“Oh I definitely think that's a major factor Minerva. I'll be very curious to see if she can overcome some of the obstacles here that have plagued her in the past and finally take home the trophy.”

*****

Hermione does a fairly good job at staying calm through the never ending interviews on Tuesday morning, each one asking if this was finally going to be the year for her here on her home turf. As if she could actually answer that ahead of time. She hopes this is the year, she feels like her game is in a good place, it will all just come down to her execution. 

She's winding her way through the press area when she spots Fleur being interviewed by one of the correspondents from golftv. She takes a step back out of Fleur's line of sight and listens in on the interview out of curiosity. 

“Just one more question before we let you go Fleur. Everyone is talking about Hermione Granger winning here, but you just put together an impressive win at the U.S. Open a couple weeks ago. Do you feel like all the attention on Ms. Granger will affect how you play here this week?”

“You know Martha, it doesn't really affect me, it's all just noise. I think it's safe to say there's not really anything about Hermione Granger that affects me in any way.”

The interviewer smiles wickedly at the great soundbite she just got, and Fleur really would like to wipe that look off her face. She used to be able to brush all this off, hell, there was probably a time when she purposely drummed up the rivalry aspect, but now she's just tired of it. Maybe she's maturing, or maybe it's something else entirely, but the maturity angle is easier for her to swallow.

When she turns and meets eyes with Hermione she actually does physically swallow. The look in Hermione's eyes very clearly says she heard the interview. There isn't anger in those eyes, but there's definitely a question, a challenge maybe. They can't discuss it here though, so Fleur breaks eye contact and walks away without a backwards glance.

*****

 

It's only late afternoon when Hermione shows up at Fleur's rental. Fleur is actually in the process of walking from the living room to the kitchen to get a glass of water when the front door opens and Hermione slips in. 

Fleur freezes on the spot, fixing Hermione with a cautious look. “Hermione, what are you doing here? I thought you weren't coming over till tonight?”

Hermione is still standing at the front door, her head cocked to the side like she's appraising Fleur. “So, let me get this straight,” she starts to walk very slowly, almost predatorily, towards Fleur, and she's running a finger slowly along the sideboard table in the hall, “there's nothing about me that affects you in any way?” The look in Hermione's eyes has Fleur's heart beating faster. 

Her tone sounds dangerous, and Fleur automatically takes a short step backwards in reaction before finding her resolve. “It was just a silly interview Hermione, you know they always ask those questions.” When Hermione lifts an eyebrow as her only response Fleur rolls her eyes. “Seriously, there's nothing to be upset about.” She turns on her heel in a huff and makes her way to the kitchen.

Hermione doesn't make a sound when she follows, and Fleur actually jumps when Hermione's body presses up behind her, trapping Fleur between her body and the kitchen island.

“Oh I'm not upset,” Hermione husks into her ear, “I'm feeling, how should I put it?” A hand runs down Fleur's front, stopping at the top of her sweatpants, a single finger slipping just under the waistband. “Challenged.” she finally finishes, running her tongue up the long slope of Fleur's neck. She bites down on an earlobe before kissing her way across the back of Fleur's neck to the other side.

Fleur has to grip the counter with both hands to steady herself, because christ is she ever turned on by how aggressive Hermione is being. The hand at her waistband starts making its way down, running along the outside of Fleur's underwear.

Hermione makes a humming noise when she feels the heat emanating from Fleur's core. She nips at a pulse point before speaking again. “It seems to me that I have no problem affecting you.” There's a palm gently rubbing against Fleur's underwear, making it increasingly difficult for her to pay attention. “But I think maybe you need a little reminder just how much.” 

Fleur actually groans softly when Hermione removes her hand from within her sweatpants. “Turn around.” She demands, and Fleur can't help but be even more turned on by how harsh her words sound. 

Once facing, Hermione leans in and rakes her teeth along Fleur's lower lip before running her tongue over it. Then she's pushing that same tongue into her mouth and aggressively dueling with Fleur's tongue. She eventually pulls back, and Fleur is surprised by how very dark her brown eyes are. They're almost black at this point. 

“Sit up on the counter, now,” Hermione says in a tone that leaves no room for discussion. Once Fleur hops up Hermione pulls her sweatpants and underwear off in one swift yank, tossing them to the side, then her shirt is swiftly pulled over head and discarded as well. She pulls Fleur in for another deep kiss before pulling back and placing a hand in the center of her chest, giving a gentle shove. Fleur leans back on her elbows watching Hermione kiss her way down farther and farther. When she reaches Fleur's center she looks up with a wicked grin, locking eyes as she threads her arms underneath her thighs, lifting her slightly before running her tongue through liquid heat. She takes her time, licking and sucking until Fleur is a quivering mess on the brink of climax. 

“Not yet.” Hermione whispers, straightening up and pulling Fleur back up for a kiss. Fleur can taste herself on Hermione's tongue, and it is so very arousing. She gasps when Hermione pushes inside of her with fingers. The pace they set is frantic, and it's not long before Fleur has to break the kiss, leaning her head back and squeezing her eyes shut. Hermione just moves the onslaught of her lips to Fleur's now exposed neck, nipping at the skin before soothing the spot with her tongue, murmuring words to encourage release.

When Fleur does finally fall over the edge it's with a hand tightly wound in Hermione's hair and a barrage of jumbled french words on her lips.

Once their breathing steadies Hermione steps away, one side of her mouth flicking up in a smirk. “Don't think I'm done making my point. I'll be in the bedroom waiting.” She turns on her heal and leaves the room, leaving a rather gobsmacked Fleur in her wake. It only takes a moment for her to hop off the counter and follow Hermione into the bedroom with unsteady legs and a goofy smile on her face.

***** 

Hermione manages to make her point several more times, with fingers and lips and tongue; from behind, underneath and on top. By the time she's done they realize they are both positively starving, which is how they find themselves on the living room couch eating takeout directly from the cartons. There is another movie involving fast cars on the t.v., because apparently Fleur enjoys 'all beautiful things' as she had put it, including cars.

Somehow they'd gotten onto the topic of their amateur years before turning pro, and Fleur tells a particularly funny story about a mixed tournament with an awards dinner after that involved an incident with bouillabaisse and a speechless dumbfounded boy. Hermione laughs harder than she has in awhile, and she has to admit it feels good. 

Fleur is taken aback for a moment when Hermione lets loose with a real laugh. She's never heard it before, and something about the sound makes her chest ache for a moment. It is so carefree and genuine, and Fleur would be lying if she said she didn't want to hear it again.

Hermione realizes the time not long after and decides she really should be going. It almost seems strange to just get up and go without any kind of real goodbye, but it's how they've always parted, and Hermione senses danger in making a change now. So she calls it a night with a simple wave and she's out the front door without a look back. 

*****

Things fall apart for Hermione on the final day of the tournament. Her dreams of finally taking home a British Open trophy disappear right along with one of her shots into the tall lynx course grass. She can hear the mutters of words like 'pressure' and 'crumble' from the people around her, and she thinks maybe they're right. Ron tells her not to think like that; that she'll take a crack at it again next year with better results, but it's harder to believe him at the moment. All she knows right now is she finished in tenth place, failing to play her normally error free style of golf, and this one hurts. Of course she says all the right things in the post round interviews, words about bouncing back, and how it just wasn't her week, but she doesn't really feel them.

She's making her way out of the clubhouse locker room when she sees Fleur. She looks like she wants to say something to Hermione, perhaps words of encouragement, but Hermione isn't really in the mood to hear it. 

“It's fine Fleur, really, I'll be back on my game soon enough. Congratulations on third place.” Hermione fixes Fleur with a steely look that dares her to doubt the words.

Fleur swallows, not really knowing what to say at all. She knows what happened out on the course today, she heard about it from some of the other girls and saw some of the more disastrous shots replayed on the tv monitors in the clubhouse. A few months ago she wouldn't have given two thoughts to how Hermione was feeling, but ever since she finished her round today that seems to be the only thought on her mind. She thinks she may have been wandering around the clubhouse more than she needed to in hopes of running into the other girl. But now that she's here she has absolutely no idea what to say. She doesn't do this, whatever this is, and there are reasons she should perhaps start reminding herself of. 

Hermione grows uncomfortable with the prolonged silence and the look Fleur is giving her. “Right then, if you'll excuse me, I think I'm going to catch a flight to visit my parents for a few days.” 

She walks away and Fleur just watches her go, still unsure of what she should have said.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

Hermione finds herself happy to have a couple weeks away from the game of golf after her disastrous finish at the British Open. It gives her time to regroup and put the tournament behind her the way her sports psychologist taught her back in her teenage years. It wasn't easy to learn to move on, she was a perfectionist after all, and she has always carried a fear that failure would expose her as a fraud, but eventually she'd gotten the techniques down.

The first few days after the tournament were spent at her parents house. She enjoyed the peace and quiet, and was happy to see Crookshanks and share dinner with her parents. She was also able to catch up on the reading she'd been neglecting because of a particular blonde she'd taken to spending more and more time with. She kept replaying the way Fleur had looked when she last saw her, and Hermione feels a little bad for not really giving her a chance to speak, but she thinks maybe it was for the best. This was never supposed to be about anything other than a physical release anyway.

Once she's back at her condo in the States she buries herself in practice and resolves to shut out the outside world. That resolve only lasts until the weekend when she finds herself watching the tournament taking place in Maryland on her t.v. She tells herself she is absolutely not watching it to see how Fleur is doing. It's Friday, and while Fleur started the day in 5th place, she's fallen back as the day has progressed. On the 18th hole she makes a critical error, hitting her ball into the water. Hermione covers her face with her hands for a moment, groaning out “Oh Fleur, what are you doing?” When the camera zooms in on her reaction Hermione can see all the frustration on her face.

Without even thinking she grabs her cell phone and types out a message.

*****

Fleur plays a better round on Saturday, but things still aren't quite clicking. She feels distracted, though by what she can't pinpoint. She spends an hour on the driving range after her round is finished, trying to work the kinks out.

It's after dark by the time she finally gets back to the rental house, and though the lights being on in the house send a clear message someone is there, she would have sensed Hermione's presence even without the obvious sign. Her particular scent lingers in the air, and there's a feel to the house that Fleur only ever becomes aware of when Hermione is around.

When she got the text yesterday she was unsure whether Hermione would come or not. The message had only consisted of a request for the address of the house. Fleur had responded with the information, along with the security code, and that was the extent of their communication. She can't decide how she feels about Hermione's willingness to get on a plane and come here just to see her. There is no pretense to hide behind, and that terrifies Fleur.

She moves quietly through the house, finally finding Hermione in the bedroom sitting on the bed with her legs stretched out, back against the headboard, engrossed in a book. Fleur takes a moment to lean against the doorframe and just watch her before making her presence known. She wonders how she could have overlooked such obvious beauty for so many years. Most likely because she wasn't looking for it. She thinks perhaps she still shouldn't be looking for it. Pushing off the doorframe she enters the room, and Hermione finally notices her.

“Hey.” she says quietly, closing her book and placing it on her lap. She doesn't say anything else, just holds eyes contact with Fleur as she moves closer.

Fleur finally responds back with a soft “Hey” of her own. She's standing next to the bed now, close enough to touch, but her and Hermione remain locked in a gentle stare down, their eyes doing the speaking for them. Eventually Fleur takes the book and places it on the night stand before crawling slowly onto the bed and swinging a leg over both of Hermione's, settling herself gently onto her lap. Their eyes stay locked for another minute until Fleur slowly leans down and captures Hermione's lips in a gentle kiss different than any kiss they've shared before. There is no frenzied urgency, no angry nips, or dueling tongues. This one is soft and raw and it starts an ache deep in Fleur's chest. She tells herself she can't want this, that after tonight she needs to remember she is not a relationship type person. Relationships only end in bitterness and anger and broken dreams. Her parents divorce had taught her that lesson all too well, leaving an indelible scar. Despite all that, she can not deny how absolutely right this moment feels, and she doesn't think she's strong enough to stop it from happening.

When Fleur pulls back for a moment Hermione can see the storm of emotions in her blue eyes. She thinks they probably mirror her own. She's still questioning herself for hopping on a plane to come here. Her actions are not practical, not well thought out, and yet everything in her is screaming that this is exactly where she needs to be right now. She slowly runs her hands up Fleur's shoulders and around her neck to pull her back into a kiss, tightly squeezing her eyes shut against the onslaught of her own emotions.

They go slow, taking their time with each other in a way they never have before. Considering how many times they've had sex there shouldn't be much left for them to learn about each other's bodies, and yet this feels like a completely new experience, filled with gentle touches and deep, slow kisses.

They have their foreheads pressed together, lips parted and inches apart, when Fleur enters her gently. With each soft stroke Hermione can feel her heart whispering words she could never possibly utter with her lips. It feels like being broken and remade in the same moment. Everything feels so very right and yet wrong, and when she comes with a soft cry there are tears held back behind her closed eyes.

Fleur feels Hermione come undone on a level that goes much deeper than physical. She thinks she may have come undone right along with her. She can not deny that part of her wants to stay in this moment, to just give in and believe in the magic of whatever they've just created, but she knows moments like this are fleeting, and come the morning she'll have to figure this all out on a non-emotional level.

They lie there for awhile, not talking or making eye contact, but instead just getting lost in soft skin and gentle caresses. Eventually Fleur moves to the other side of the bed, and when Hermione starts to rise she grabs her wrist, whispering “no, stay, please, just for tonight.”

Hermione searches her eyes for a moment, eventually allowing herself to be persuaded, lying on her side to face Fleur. They watch each other for awhile before drifting off to sleep, hands entwined in the middle of the bed between them.

*****

Fleur is gone when Hermione wakes in the morning, though she was expecting it. Sunday morning tournament tee times do not wait for anyone. It still leaves an empty feeling in her chest though. There's a note on the kitchen counter telling her to stay as late as she wants, that Fleur will be flying back home as soon as the tournament is over in the afternoon. Hermione knows right away that she can not linger, that the emotions of the previous night are already trying to catch up with her, so she calls a taxi and tries to ignore what her heart is so desperately trying to tell her.

*****

“Well despite falling short in her run at winning today Fleur Delacour still put together one of the most impressive rounds I've seen her play in a long time, and that is saying something. She had the lowest round of the day, shooting a six under, but it was't enough to catch up to Santana Lopez, who will take home the trophy this week.”

*****

 

Fleur knows she should feel better about the way she played today, it really was a terrific round, but for some reason it doesn't feel as satisfying as it normally does. It is frustrating, and she feels like it might be time to get her head on straight again, perhaps remove the current distractions from her life. Although she suspects there is only one thing, or rather one person, who has become the distraction. She sighs to herself as she thinks about how much simpler everything was when she and Hermione still hated each other. A small voice in the back of her mind questions whether or not they really did hate each other to begin with, but she tries hard to silence it.

She exits the clubhouse at the same time Santana is entering. “Nice round there. Did you have a little visit from your good luck charm last night?” Santana has a smirk on her face, and Fleur really isn't in the mood to deal with any of this. She bumps shoulders with Santana as she walks by, not bothering to respond.

“What the hell Delacour? It was just a joke!” Santana calls after her, not understanding why her words elicited such a reaction. She has half a mind to follow Fleur to the parking lot and tell her to pull her head out of her ass when she feels a hand gently close over her wrist.

“Let her go sweetie,” Brittany utters quietly so no one else can hear. “I think there's more going on than we know.” Her eyes implore Santana to listen. Santana has never really been able to deny her anything, and her shoulders relax as she gives a nod of agreement.

  
“Fine, I've got better things to do anyway, like spend the night celebrating with a certain someone.” Brittany's smile is knowing as she responds “Yeah you do.”


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

Hermione wasn't sure what she expected to happen after the night in Maryland, but certainly not a complete lack of communication with Fleur. More than once in the days that followed she found herself looking at her phone, thinking about sending a message, but she had no clue what to say. That was the part that scared her the most. She was normally so articulate, so sure of how she wanted to handle things, but this was completely new territory for her. It was territory she previously had no desire to traverse until later in her life, later in her career. That was the line of thinking she held on to each time she was tempted to reach out. 

She ultimately decides returning the arrangement to its original parameters is the best way to handle the whole thing. They could go back to being each other's occasional convenient hook up. She'd acted rashly by flying to Maryland, she knows that now. Too many emotions and thoughts had been clouding her judgement, but she could work past all that. And the feeling gnawing at the pit of her stomach would surely dissipate given enough time.

She's so sure of her decided course of action that it comes as a surprise when Fleur avoids her the entire next tournament. Hermione spends each night wondering if it would be the night a text would come with an address, but it never does. She barely sees Fleur at the golf course either, their eyes only meeting once briefly before Fleur looks away. Hermione refuses to allow herself to feel hurt, which does absolutely nothing to stem the pain.

When the next weekend plays out much the same way Hermione starts to get a sinking sensation in the pit of her stomach. If she could just talk to Fleur then maybe they could go back to the way things were. But the more days that pass, the less sure she feels that they could ever go back. 

By the third weekend Hermione finally admits to herself she misses Fleur. The more time that passes the less she's able to hide behind her thoughts of what is practical and rational. Because nothing about this feels practical. It hurts in a way Hermione has never experienced. 

She happens to wind up in the same vicinity as Fleur on the final day of the tournament, and unable to hold herself back anymore she approaches cautiously. “Fleur?” She asks in a timid voice. She hates how weak she sounds just saying her name.

Fleur turns weary eyes to her. “I can't talk right now Hermione. I just...I can't do this.” She's gone before Hermione can respond, leaving her rooted to the spot. It feels like a sucker punch, and for the first time it occurs to her that all her interactions with Fleur may have come to an end. How had she failed to account for the idea that maybe Fleur no longer wanted anything to do with her? What if their night in Maryland made her realize that Hermione's feelings ran far deeper than she thought, and now she couldn't get away fast enough? 

Santana finds her in that same spot a minute later, asking in a gentle voice if Hermione would like some company for the night. Hermione is surprised by the gesture, unsure if she should accept, but then she can see Brittany over Santana's shoulder smiling kindly, and decides maybe some time with people away from her thoughts and emotions would be a good thing. 

Two hours later Hermione feels a pleasant buzz from the bottle of wine her and Santana split on the back deck of the rental house. She finds herself surprised at what good company Santana has turned out to be. Perhaps she judged her a little too harshly, much like suspects she'd done with Fleur. Hermione feels a bit of the buzz slip away as the name flits through her mind. Before she can stop herself a question rolls off her tongue.

“Would you ever give all this up for someone?” 

Santana turns slowly, looking at her carefully for a moment. “You mean give up professional golf and all the trappings that go with it?” When Hermione nods Santana's eyes skirt over to the glass door leading into the living room where Brittany is dancing along to some pop song on the radio. Hermione has no idea where she gets all the energy from.

“Yeah, I would.” She answers softly, her eyes coming back to fix Hermione with a sincere look. “For me none of this means anything without her.” Hermione feels her eyebrows raise, not at the admission, but because this is the first time Santana has ever acknowledged her relationship with Brittany out loud.

“You know we met when we were both amateurs at this god awful tournament in Texas. We were instant best friends, inseparable, it was actually kind of ridiculous. And then, a couple years later, we were more, and I knew even then that I could never give her up. I know I'm not that nice of a person, mostly because I think people suck, but Brittany? She sees the best in me for some reason. She makes me believe maybe I don't have to be such a bitch all the time. So yeah, would I give this up for her? In a heart beat.”

Hermione lets that sink in for a moment. It seems to confirm for her why this mess with Fleur is such a bad idea. This is exactly why she never wanted to develop feelings for someone at this point in her career. She's not willing to give up everything she spent years working so hard for. That is not who she is.

“You and Fleur are different.” Santana says as if reading her mind. Hermione feels a small jolt at hearing Fleur's name out loud. “The two of you are both so focused and intense about your careers, but I think that just means you understand each other. Neither of you would ever ask the other to give any of this up or change how focused you are about it. And honestly, you two push each other to be better players. Hell, you were both doing that before you started knocking boots, why does it have to change now?”

Hermione can feel her eyes welling up with tears. “Santana,” her voice breaks, “I think I've gone and done something so incredibly stupid. I'm feeling all these things, and she...” she stops to swipe at her eyes in frustration,”she doesn't want any of this.”

Santana puts an arm around Hermione's shoulders, pulling her in to tuck her head underneath her chin. “Hey, it's ok. Cry it all out with Auntie 'Tana if you need to.” 

They sit like that for a few minutes until Hermione finally feels her tears subsiding. The porch door slides open and Brittany steps out. “Why are you crying Hermione?”

“Oh it's nothing Britt, just crying over having feelings for Fleur that she doesn't reciprocate.” Hermione throws in a little laugh at herself to try and lighten the mood, failing miserably.

Confusion crosses Brittany's face before she speaks. “But how can you know how Fleur feels when she doesn't even know herself?” 

*****

Fleur does not know how she feels and it is slowly driving her mad. Over three weeks have passed since the night in Maryland, and her emotions have been more up and down in that span of time than at any other point in her life. At first she thought if she got through a weekend with Hermione at a tournament without hooking up it would prove she was still in control of herself. Instead she'd never felt more out of control, having to move her cell phone to a different room when she slept so she wouldn't keep picking it up to start typing out a message.

Once she made it through the first weekend she thought it would get better, but she was wrong. The second weekend was just as difficult, if not worse. She'd seen Hermione chatting with one of the girls after a round, remaining rooted to the spot to watch her from afar for a few moments. She was so tempted to go up to her right then, her hands curling into tight fists in an attempt to hang onto her self control. Then Hermione was gone and the moment passed. 

By this past weekend Fleur just felt exhausted. She could feel the weight of all the emotions being held back becoming heavier and heavier. Then when Hermione had approached her she had wanted so desperately to throw all her resolve out the window, but she didn't even know what to say. How do you tell someone you've been avoiding them because they scare you more than anything ever has? Or that in the middle of the night you can hear their laugh, the real genuine one, in your head? That you can't stop picturing the look on their face the last time you'd made love? Because at the very least Fleur was able to admit to herself that what they'd done that night wasn't just sex. It had rocked her to her core, and she was still trying to recover.

Even Harry, who normally acts oblivious to anything going on in Fleur's personal life is starting to show signs of concern. And he has good reason to when Fleur misses the cut off line in the tournament the following week and doesn't get to play over the weekend, something that hasn't happened to her for a long time. Luckily Hermione wasn't entered into this particular tournament, because Fleur doesn't think she could bare to have her witness such loss of control. 

She's in the locker room getting her things together when Brittany approaches.

“Hi,” she sounds cautious, unsure if Fleur is in the mood to talk.

Fleur takes a second to calm herself before responding. She doesn't want to take anything out on Brittany. “Hi Brittany.”

“Look, I'm sure you're extremely bummed right now and probably don't feel like talking to anyone, but I just wanted to say you should really talk to her.”

Fleur just stares at Brittany, unsure if she heard her correctly. “I'm sorry Brittany, I don't quite follow?”

Brittany's lips quirk into a small smile. “I think you do though, and I think whatever reasons you have for staying away probably aren't worth it. Her reasons aren't either by the way, but I'm not supposed to tell you that.” Brittany looks around guiltily, as if someone might chastise her for revealing that tidbit of information. She looks back at Fleur, nods once, and starts to walk away, spinning on her heel just before the door, “Sometimes the thing that feels the best is also the right thing to do.” And with that she's gone.

Fleur sits down on the bench, feeling a bit dizzy. Hearing someone say out loud how ludicrous her behavior has been feels like a sucker punch. It sends all the walls tumbling down, and leaves her with only one singular desire. She picks up her phone, hitting the speed dial for a familiar number. 

“Harry? I need a favor. Can you get ahold of Ron for me? Yes that Ron, I know you two are friends, and don't think I'm not aware of your side bets with him.” Harry is only too happy to do whatever Fleur wants after hearing that.

*****

Hermione thinks she might be on her five hundredth sand shot for the day, but the repetitive practice is calming and good at keeping her mind occupied. With no tournament on her schedule this weekend she figures the extra hours of practice at her local course can only help. She's so engrossed in her own actions that she doesn't notice the person approaching.

“You're setting your wrists a little too sharply on the down swing.” 

Hermione jumps at hearing the voice, spinning around with a hand pressed to her heart. “Fleur.” she breaths out in disbelief. Part of her wonders if this is an hallucination, but no, this is very real. Fleur is standing only 15 feet away, arms crossed, in a simple t-shirt and jeans, and Hermione thinks she's never looked more beautiful. She is so screwed. “To what do I owe this honor?”

Fleur tilts her head to the side, taking in Hermione's defensive stance that matches her tone. It is completely deserved, and oddly kind of cute. Fleur wants to roll her eyes at her own thoughts, but she has more pressing matters to deal with than figuring out when she became such a sap. 

She clears her throat before speaking, which is really just a nervous stalling tactic she developed years ago. “I came to tell you that I can't keep doing our little arrangement.”

Hermione feels her heart constrict painfully in her chest. She already knew this, and she really could have done without Fleur coming all this way just to tell her in person. She turns back to the pile of balls in the sand next to her, dragging one over to herself with the head of the club she's holding. “I could have guessed that from the way you've been avoiding me for weeks Fleur, you didn't need to go through the effort of coming here to tell me.” She lets loose with another swing, trying to cover up for the hurt she's sure is emanating from her body.

Fleur remains silent for a moment, letting Hermione take a couple more swings before speaking again. “Hermione.”

The way she speaks her name is so soft, almost reverent. When Hermione turns back she's startled to find Fleur right at the edge of the bunker.

“Let me be clear for once. I can't do this anymore because somehow it's no longer enough. And I have no idea what the hell I'm doing, and this thing between us,” she gestures back and forth between them before running a hand through her hair in frustration, “is making me feel things I swore I'd never feel.” Fleur stops to let out a slow breath, closing her eyes for just a moment before continuing. “I know this isn't what you wanted at this point in your life, and I have no idea if I can even do this. I'm afraid of screwing everything up, and terrified that I can't be what you need, or what you deserve, and yet...somewhere along the way in all this I started falling in love with you, and I have no idea how to stop.” There are tears building up in her eyes, and she doesn't bother to stop them from coming. 

Hermione squeezes her eyes shut for a moment, letting Fleur's words sink deep into herself. “Fleur,” she opens her eyes, and she has tears of her own starting to fall, “I'm afraid I can't be of much help to you, because I have no idea how stop falling in love with you either. And honestly...I don't want to. Don't you know that by now?”

Fleur actually laughs through her tears, feeling the heaviness of the last few weeks leaving her. And then Hermione is dropping her club in the sand and pulling Fleur to her, into the type of kiss that conveys every single emotion between the two of them. 

After several minutes Hermione pulls back with a little nip to Fleur's bottom lip before pulling her down to touch their foreheads together. “I don't know what plans you have for tonight, but I'd really like to take you to dinner, and if you play your cards right maybe we can see what happens back at my place afterwards.”

Fleur throws her head back to laugh, lowering it back down with a sparkle in her eyes Hermione finds so utterly breathtaking. “I think that may be the best proposition I've ever heard.”


	9. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And so we come to the end of our journey. I hope you enjoyed. If you have the time and are so inclined, let me know your thoughts or feelings on the story (wether you enjoyed or despised it) here or on tumblr. Thanks for taking the time to read this, I really appreciate it!

The Following Year

“The applause at the 18th hole here at Royal Lytham & St. Annes can only be described as thunderous as Hermione Granger makes her way up to the green where she has a 7 foot putt left to close out her victory and finally take home the British Open trophy she's been dreaming about since she was a little girl. I don't think I've ever seen her wear a grin quite this big. She is definitely enjoying this moment, waving to the gallery and giving a tip of her cap, and the fans are just eating it up. She's played a brilliant tournament from start to finish, every phase of her game has been crisp and precise, wouldn't you say Minerva?”

“Oh I definitely would Dean. Ms. Granger had everything working for her this week, and she dominated the field. There was such an ease to her game and it felt like this was going to be her year from the very first hole.”

“It has been fantastic to watch. Fleur Delacour made a run at it today, but she fell short by three strokes. You have to think that hurts a little bit.”

“Dean, knowing these girls the way I do I suspect Fleur is not all that upset about this outcome.”

“I find that hard to believe Minerva. Everyone knows what a fierce competitor she is. I would think she's experiencing a bit of heartache right now.”

“I assure you Dean, she is not.”

“But don't you think-”

“Dean I'm standing 20 feet from her just off the 18th green, and she is wearing the biggest grin I have ever seen. Take my word on this.” 

*****

The feeling of joy that overtakes Hermione once she sinks her final putt is overwhelming. Finally her dream of winning the one major championship eluding her grasp has come true. Now she just has to get through all the interviews and obligations of winning before she can celebrate the way she really wants. Her eyes seek out the particular person she'd like to do the celebrating with, and when she sees Fleur standing just off the green wearing a huge smile meant only for Hermione her heart clenches a little bit. She doesn't think she'll ever get used to the way Fleur makes her feel. They've become so head over heels for each other that it's almost ridiculous, but Hermione wouldn't want it any other way.

Her attention shifts to the reporter with a microphone in front of her. This interview is being broadcast on live television so she supposes she should try and actually pay attention. 

“Hermione, congratulations on an outstanding victory.”

“Thank you James.”

“It seemed like everything was firing on all cylinders for you this week, and you played a flawless tournament. What do you account your success to this week?”

Hermione's eyes drift back to Fleur's. “Well James, I think I'm just in such an amazing place in my life right now that everything has just kind of fallen into place. I've never felt this comfortable or at peace with my game, and I think that showed up at the right time.” 

Fleur never breaks eye contact as she walks onto the green with purpose, heading straight for Hermione. 

“It certainly came at an opportune moment for you-” the announcer cuts off, his mouth hanging open when Fleur picks Hermione up, spinning her around once while laughing before pulling her into a kiss that could only be shared between lovers, all while on public tv. Neither Fleur nor Hermione can find it in themselves to care much that they've just announced their relationship to the whole world. They are too happy, too in love, to keep it to themselves anymore.

They pull apart when they hear a familiar voice call out “Hey lovebirds.” Santana and Brittany come rushing onto the green with bottles of champagne, dousing them with the cold, sticky liquid. But they both just laugh, because neither of them ever imagined just how wonderful this would all turn out.

And somewhere off to the side of the green Harry passes a well-worn $20 dollar bill back to Ron.

*****

Television Announcer: “Tonight after SportsCenter don't miss our special on how the biggest rivalry in women's golf became a love story. We talked to the couple themselves as well as the other players on tour with them to get the story.

The camera focuses in on Fleur and Hermione sitting next to each other smiling.

Interviewer: So when you two first met, you didn't like each other, correct? Or was that all for show?”

The two of them look at each other for a moment. Hermione scratches her nose before answering a little sheepishly “No, it definitely wasn't for show. I thought she was just really stuck up, and overwhelmingly vain.”

Fleur's smile grows as Hermione speaks. “And I thought she was just so uptight, such a killjoy.”

The scene cuts to Santana and Brittany in the interview chairs.

Interviewer: So you two were aware of their growing relationship?

Santana rolls her eyes. “Aware? Yes, you could say that. Honestly those two couldn’t find their way out of a paper bag, let alone to each other, if it wasn't for me and Britt helping them.”

Brittany looks at the camera with a straight face. “It's true. They were like blind unicorns walking around not able to find their unicorn mate before we came along.”

Santana turns slowly to Brittany with an incredulous, but not unkind, look on her face. “Britt...”

The scene cuts back to Hermione and Fleur.

Interviewer: It must get pretty tense sometimes, with both of you being at the top of the game, vying for many of the same victories. How do you deal with that in your relationship?

They both look at each other out of the corner of their eyes. Hermione speaks first. “Um, I think we've just had a really good system in place from the beginning for dealing with the stress of the game. Wouldn't you say so Fleur?”

Fleur tries to hold back the smirk that wants to come to her lips. “Yes, I'd say that's accurate. A really good system.” They really can't stop smiling at each other.

The scene cuts to a sullen looking girl. 

Interviewer: Tina Cohen-Chang, were you aware that something was going on between Fleur and Hermione before their now infamous kiss at this year's British Open?

Tina shrugs. “I mean, I walked in on them engaging in certain activities in a locker room over a year ago, so yeah, I kind of figured something was going on.”

 

The End


End file.
